


Of Age

by kaydeefalls



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Bittersweet, Coming of Age, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-05
Updated: 2002-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/pseuds/kaydeefalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had to happen sooner or later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Age

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Gabby Hope for the beta.

_I'm not alone in my bed._

This brilliant deduction is followed by a few moments of desperately trying _not_ to remember last night. Unfortunately, I was reasonably sober, and the memory returns all too easily.

Quick kisses. Slow kisses. Awkward fumbling. Gentle caresses. The heat of skin on skin. Rhythmic thrusts. Hands roving everywhere. Biting my lip, hard, so I wouldn't call out. And, finally, warmth and exhaustion. Whispered promises I have to keep.

And then blessed unconsciousness, wishing it could all go away.

I roll out of my not-empty bed, stifling a groan. I don't want to be awake. But I will find no sleep here. Not with you.

*

The first time was basically an accident.

We were hightailing it across a field, without so much as a mushroom to show for our efforts. I was stumbling over every rock in my path as I ran, gasping at Merry to slow down. He was less than good-natured about the whole business.

"I knew you would muck it all up," he grumbled, finally pausing in his flight. He waited on the other side of the stream, tapping his foot impatiently as I scrambled across.

"It was your idea," I replied, slipping on a wet rock.

He splashed over and grabbed my arm. "Steady on, Pip. Those dratted dogs are sure to've given up by now, no need to fall and bash your foolish head open."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "I'm not foolish. And it was your idea."

"You said that already, and it would've gone perfectly if you hadn't yelped like that."

"Cornstalk leaves are sharp, and I was chasing after _you_ when one of them clipped my eye," I said with dignity. "Besides, how was I to know that Farmer Maggot was working one row over?"

"You didn't have to drop the carrots!"

"Well, _you_ didn't have to drop the mushrooms!"

Merry glared at me. "I was just trying to save your thick hide! Tossing that bag aside distracted the dogs, didn't it?"

"I'm twenty-four years old now, and you're no grown-up to boss me around," I said haughtily. "I don't need you to look out for me." To prove my point, I yanked my arm away from his steadying hand. The sudden movement was too much for my balance on the slippery rock, and when I tried to shift my weight accordingly, it threw me off further. I toppled over onto Merry, sending the both of us crashing into the shallow stream.

I immediately jumped up off my cousin, sincerely expecting something like instant death. But to my surprise, he was laughing. "Oh, Pippin," he gasped, eyes twinkling at me, "today just isn't our day, is it?" He propped himself up on one elbow, extending his other hand to me. "You could help me up, at least."

Foolishly enough, I took the proffered hand. Merry promptly yanked me back down into the water. I splashed at him, gasping in indignation. He laughed and responded in kind, and within seconds we were both thoroughly soaked.

Finally, he grabbed my wrists to put an end to the splashing. I flailed my arms, trying to break free, laughing helplessly, which somehow resulted in me falling on top of him again.

Familiar, clear eyes danced merrily at me, mere inches away. I must have forgotten about revenge, or maybe that was my intention -- who can say? I scarcely had time to think, because Merry was suddenly kissing me. Or maybe I was kissing him. Or possibly both.

I definitely stopped laughing.

So, yes, the first time was basically an accident.

*

_The bedsprings creak as I stand, and I stop myself hastily. Careless, careless, why am I ever doomed to be so careless? You don't stir, and I allow myself a sigh of relief. No waking up yet, I mentally instruct your form under the blanket. No waking up._

I'm not ready for you to wake up. I don't know if I ever will be.

And that's a frightening thought for a hobbit who came of age only yesterday...

*

Merry came of age first, a few months after the never-mentioned incident in the stream. I scarcely saw him at all during those months; he was holed up in Buckland, while I roamed restlessly around Tuckborough and Hobbiton. It was all far too much for one young hobbit to bear alone.

"I'm going to Brandy Hall," I informed my father one day, bursting into his study in a fit of frustration. "It's horribly dull here and I haven't seen Merry in ages."

Father sighed, turning away from the fire to face me. "I was wondering why the household has been so calm these last few weeks. You stay out of trouble marvelously well when that scamp of a cousin isn't about to get you into it."

"He's gotten me out of more scrapes than he's gotten me into," I began to protest, then clamped my mouth shut when Father gave me his sternest what-have-you-been-doing-behind-my-back look.

"We'll leave the discussion of that for another time. For now, I'm afraid I must forbid you from going to Buckland."

My jaw dropped. "Forbid me? Why? I haven't been a bother for weeks, you said so yourself."

"Peregrin," my father said, in a tone that warned of words of wisdom to come, "when a hobbit of good family comes of age, he must begin to take up the mantle of responsibility. Especially when he is an only son who will therefore be inheriting a large and important holding of land. The future Master of Buckland cannot shirk his duties; I expect that at the moment he is most occupied with learning exactly what those duties are, for he certainly has never cared for them before."

I held my tongue. I'd heard this lecture before, and Merry had occasionally groused about his own father's eloquent version of The Rules.

"Take heed, Pippin," Father said in a gentler tone. "The future Thain must follow the same path." He looked pointedly at me. Eight years suddenly seemed like far too little time.

"Yes, Father."

*

_You breathe evenly in sleep as I stumble gracelessly over to my wardrobe. I pull out the plainest, simplest clothing I own -- no finery today. I try not to look at the mail shirt and leather gauntlets that hang beside Shire wear, memories of a -- well, not quite a happier time, not with the battles and the Ring and Frodo's pain-filled face. Not a better time. What then?_

A simpler time? A more honest one?

A time when I knew whom I loved, and that was all I needed. I wish I had that simple truth to comfort me now.

*

It was the first time I'd ever thought of Brandy Hall as beautiful.

I've known the Hall all my life, been ferried back and forth between Tuckborough and Buckland whenever my parents took a fancy to the trip. I've toddled carefully down these corridors and been dragged through them by irate relatives. It isn't quite home, but it comes fairly close.

But this was different. The fading sunlight sparkled a deep orange against every round windowpane. Streamers and garlands outlined the doors and roof. Lights from a hundred candles twinkled all around the gardens, warmth pouring out of every crack in the windows and doors. My aunt and uncle had spared no expense; their only child was coming of age tonight.

He met us at the door. "Hullo, Pip."

"Hoy, Merry."

Merry ruffled my hair as though I were a child. He grinned crookedly at the scowl on my face. "Have you grown again?" he demanded. "Soon you'll beat the Bullroarer."

I swatted his hand away, ignoring the state of my less-than-neat curls. "Runs in my family, small one." He still had a good two inches on me, mind.

"I'm as much Took as you are, even if I'm fortunate enough to not be saddled with the name."

I couldn't deny the first part of his claim, but I could certainly object to the second -- so I punched at his shoulder.

He caught my wrist and held it, favoring me with the full stormy intensity of his gaze. "Missed you, Pipsqueak," he said gruffly. His voice was lower than usual. Abruptly, he released me and turned away. "Aunt Eglantine, I'm near starved, and I'm sure you must be, too. Care to have a guess at what Mother's prepared for the party dinner?"

"Everything in your larder and then some, knowing your appetite," my mother laughed. "Happy birthday, dear."

He kissed her cheek dutifully. I swallowed hard, and tried not to think about his lips.

In all the hustle and bustle of the grandest birthday party since Bilbo's disappearance, I hardly got to speak to Merry at all. It was a flurry of music and relatives and food, none of which I have any objection to on principle, but what I wanted was my cousin. The trouble with being the hobbit of the hour is that one's closest friends can't get a word in edgewise. Ahem.

We were staying in Brandy Hall for the night, and my mother sent me up to bed while Merry and his parents were still handing out presents and saying goodbye. I was given the same small bedroom I always have, just down the hall from Merry's. I waited an age until all the torches were doused, then crept out of my room.

The corridor was very dark, but I knew my way well enough, and Merry's bedroom was only a few doors down, anyway. There was a bit of light glowing through the crack under his door. I quietly let myself in.

Merry was sitting cross-legged on his bed, still wearing his party clothes. He didn't look at all surprised to see me. Well, I suppose he shouldn't be; we've been sneaking into each others' rooms after lights-out for years. But tonight this tradition, like everything else, was somehow different.

"Pip," he said, by way of acknowledgment.

"Merry."

He jerked his head to indicate a lumpy parcel on his nightstand. "You forgot to come by for your present."

"I'm here now, aren't I?"

"That you are." He eyed me warily. The unusual awkwardness between us was making me nervous. That, and I couldn't stop staring at his lips. He sighed. "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

I went over to get my present. That put me too close to him, so I plopped down on the floor to tear it open. He watched me from the bed, eyes oddly unreadable.

It was a woolly grey scarf.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

I looked from his lips to the scarf, then back to his lips. "Yes," I said. I took a deep breath. "But I was hoping for a different present."

His eyes practically glowed with heat. "And what would that be?"

"You," I said simply. "If that would be all right with you."

Merry smiled. He reached out and clasped my hand, pulling me up onto the bed with him. "Yes, I think I'd like that."

And that was how Merry and I celebrated his coming of age.

*

_Shirt, shrugged over my shoulders and buttoned carefully. Trousers, pulled up to my waist, shirt neatly tucked in them. Belt buckle, a bit snugger than usual. I suppose I'm finally gaining back some of the traditional hobbit weight, although I'm still far slimmer than the average lad. The habit of training and exercise never quite left me._

Yes, think about all the boring, everyday things. Maybe they can silence the little voice in my mind. The one screaming that everything is all wrong.

I won't look at my bed. I won't.

*

"This is all wrong."

Merry looked over at me, startled. "What is?"

I plopped down onto the debris-littered ground, curling up into a tight ball. I rested my chin on my knees, clasping my legs to my chest. "Us. Here. Everything."

Merry abandoned the wooden crate he had been inspecting, straightening with a sigh. He brushed his hands off on his trousers and looked over our surroundings with a critical eye. "Well, I suppose Isengard has certainly looked better, and Saruman did a fair job of destroying it himself before the Ents arrived. But neither of us ever saw it in its prime, if it had one, so you could hardly be mourning its current state of affairs." He glanced over at me, and his expression softened. He picked his way around a variety of flotsam and jetsam to crouch down beside me. "But that's not what you meant, is it?"

"It's too much," I whispered. "The quest and Frodo always looking so worried and Boromir dying and the Uruk-hai and the Ents storming Isengard..." I took a deep breath. "It's all too much and Merry I want to go home now please take me home." The last bit was too close to being a sob for my liking, and I tried to calm down.

"I can't, Pip," Merry said softly. He touched my cheek gently and I practically launched myself into his arms, pressing my face into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he murmured into my hair.

I scrunched my eyes shut tight, not allowing myself to cry. "I just want everything to go back to the way it was." My voice wavered a little and I tried to steady it. "Back in the Shire. Remember your coming of age party?"

His hold on me tightened. "Of course."

"Everything was so perfect after that." It hadn't been _perfect_, of course, but it all certainly seemed grand in retrospect. And Merry was not about to argue with me.

"I'm sure we'll be going home soon," he assured me, but we both knew it was a lie.

"Soon," I echoed. Soon. Whatever that meant. I clung to Merry a moment longer, then reluctantly pulled away.

He smiled and stood, grasping my hand to pull me up beside him. "Come on, then." His voice was more tender than I'd ever heard it before. "Let's see if we can find anything to eat around here."

*

_In all fairness, I suppose I'm not the first hobbit to wake up in a bed with the wrong person. I'm not the first to be overcome by the burning desire to slip away, quickly, before their lover can wake up and discover them. Many a husband has come slinking back home to wife and bed in the wee hours of the morning, ducking his head in shame and hoping for forgiveness. I am not the first to feel he has betrayed his partner._

But I do not have the luxury of scurrying home under the cover of night. This is my home, and it is already daylight. Only my thoughts remain dark.

*

The world was darker than usual. At first, I thought it was because I was dead, but then I realized that my eyes were just closed. But I couldn't open them just yet; I was too busy concentrating on breathing. It hurt. I felt...crushed. My chest protested every breath, and I couldn't feel my arm. Which was probably a good thing, given how lousy the rest of my body felt. I was battered, bruised, and generally miserable.

And, I admitted ruefully to myself, just a little bit frightened. There had been a battle, and a huge troll, hadn't there? And the end of the world; when had that happened?

I wanted Merry. Badly. What I would give just to hear him tease me, or laugh...

I was suddenly aware that someone was holding my good hand. The touch was achingly familiar. Mustering what little energy I could spare from breathing -- and when have I ever been at a loss for energy before? -- I opened my eyes.

Merry.

If I could move, I would have thrown myself at him. He looked about as exhausted as I felt. His face was pale, and the usual spark was missing from his red-rimmed eyes. He stared hopelessly at the painful rise and fall of my chest. My dear, foolish old Merry, who looked and looked and yet hadn't even noticed that I was awake.

He practically jumped out of his chair when I squeezed his hand. It hurt too much to laugh, so I smiled instead. "Merry."

"Pip," he whispered hoarsely, eyes boring into mine, mingled disbelief and the astonished beginnings of joy playing across his face.

"Where am I?"

Merry swallowed hard. "The Houses of Healing, silly," he croaked out. "In my old bed, in fact." He managed a small smile.

I stared up at the ceiling, hardly feeling the light pressure of his hand grasping mine. "How could I be here? Was the Ring destroyed?"

When there was no immediate response, I looked back over at Merry. He nodded mutely, his eyes bright with unshed tears. I wanted to reach out and touch his face, but moving was still out of the question.

"I'm not dead, then," I said softly.

He clutched my hand so hard I thought he might break it. "No," he said, wondering. "You're not." And suddenly he laughed, the relief rushing through him in great waves. "No, you're not."

*

_Why is it taking me so long to dress and wash up? Why do my feet drag? I certainly want to be out of this room as quickly as possible, yet time seems to have stretched out, moving impossibly slowly. If I stopped to watch, I would be able to chart the sun's gradual movement across the tousled coverlet, the rumpled pillows, your body. I suppose you'll wake up when it reaches your face._

I shudder involuntarily and turn away. I have to finish up and get out of here, and I can feel the seconds ticking by like years.

*

"Three years."

I looked blankly at my father. "Three years what?"

He tapped his pipe thoughtfully with a finger. "Three years since you returned from that tomfool expedition of yours, and became the hero of the Shire. Three years of you and that scamp of a cousin prancing about in your finery and high company, and not a whit accomplished in all that time."

"Um," I said, maintaining a polite expression on my face.

"Now, it was all well and good for me to turn a blind eye for a time," he said sternly, "but you'll be coming of age in less than a month, and no full-grown son of mine is going to drift about like--"

"Merry came of age years and years ago," I pointed out.

My father harrumphed. "Master Meriadoc is no concern of mine, thank Eru. My sister indulges the lad, and Saradoc is an old fool. But although your cousin may be an irresponsible little rascal--"

"He's not irresponsible!" I burst out, knowing I had interrupted him one too many times and not particularly caring. "Nor little, neither. And he's been running Brandy Hall practically on his own for months now, what with Uncle being sick and all."

"Be that as it may," Father continued, glaring at me, "I think it's high time that you settle down."

I coughed. "Settle down?"

He took a long puff on his pipe before speaking. "I hear you've been passing the time with Tolman LongCleeve's daughter."

I wrinkled my nose. "Diamond? Eh, she's all right, I suppose." Merry and I used to play rather horrid pranks on Diamond and her friends, before the Quest. But she didn't hold them against us, now that we were heroes. She even laughed about them. Sometimes. "She likes hearing Merry's and my stories, anyway."

"Hmph." My father gave me a hard look. "Have you been, ehm, dallying with this lass, Pippin?"

"Gods, no!" I half-shouted. I've got Merry for that, I didn't add. "I like her well enough, but I would never--"

He looked almost disappointed. "Well, no matter. Tolman and I agree that you two would make a good match."

I practically choked. "What? Match?" I shook my head emphatically. "No, no, she's..." _a girl!_ "...she's too young! She's, what, four years younger than I am? No."

"You're eight years younger than Merry, and that has never stopped you," Father said mildly. Oh, sweet Eru, how much did he actually know? "Of course, I could never force you into anything against your will," he continued ironically. "But I would advise you to consider it. The silly lass actually seems to fancy you. And you have a responsibility to the Thainship, you know. You're my only son and heir."

I nodded mutely and fled the room.

Merry was waiting outside, leaning casually against the wall and munching an apple. When he saw me, he tossed the core aside. He grinned and kissed me lightly. "You were in there a while," he said cheerfully. "What's Uncle Paladin grumbling about this time?"

I looked at his hand where it rested so comfortably on my arm. Ever since the end of the Quest he'd been like this, far more free with his little touches and caresses, making every moment count. I liked that. I never wanted it to change.

"Nothing," I said.

*

_I'm almost done. Almost ready to face the rest of my household -- my father's smug face, my mother's simpering smile, my sisters' hushed giggles and whispers. They all know what we were doing last night. I do hope it amuses them, like all of my little pranks and mistakes over the years. This has been my biggest yet, but for once I doubt anyone will scold me for it._

I run a comb through my tousled hair blindly, avoiding the mirror. As long I don't see your reflection, I can pretend you aren't there. For just a little while longer, anyway.

*

"She's looking at you."

"Who is?" I demanded crossly. My own blasted birthday party, and I had scarce been able to get up and dance even once. I didn't see why the entire Shire had to be present, nor why every last hobbit felt the burning need to exchange pleasantries with me. All right, I _was_ coming of age, and I suppose that's what people are expected to do, but if I didn't get away from this table in one more minute I would start swearing like a dwarf, and probably shock some ancient aunt or another. And Merry had been unnaturally moody all night, which certainly did not help matters.

He jerked his head, indicating someone off behind me. "Diamond, who else? She's been paying extra attention to you for weeks."

"And I've been avoiding her for as long," I said, resisting the urge to turn and see. "Honestly, Merry..."

"Honestly what?" he asked, with false innocence. "I was just noticing, is all."

"Well, don't," I snapped. "I'm going to go have a dance." I stood, roughly pushing away from the table, and whirled around to head over towards the dancers. I crashed right into Diamond.

"She's also standing just behind you," I could hear Merry murmur.

Diamond smiled prettily at me. "Care for a dance, Master Pippin?" She linked her arm in mine.

I blinked at her. "Um..."

"No, he doesn't," Merry said, coming up beside me. I shot him a grateful look. "We were just going for more ale, actually."

She did not release my arm. In fact, she completely ignored Merry. "Come on, Pippin, you've been staring at the dancers all evening. It's your birthday! Come and dance with me." She leaned in closer, going up on tiptoe to whisper in my ear. "We need to talk."

Merry glared at her and grabbed my other arm. "Let's go, Pip. I think I see Sam over there; we haven't had a chance to speak to him in months."

"Er..." I said, glancing back and forth between them a bit desperately, painfully aware that other hobbits were now turning to watch us.

Diamond gave an exaggerated sigh and released me, putting her hands on her hips indignantly. "Pippin Took, you are impossible!" she exclaimed. Before Merry could tug me away, she glared accusingly at me -- actually, at the both of us, although her words were directed only at me. "I _wanted_ to tell you that my father has been asking me about the wedding, and he was quite put out when I told him you hadn't even asked me yet, and frankly I'm more than a little put out about it too, and it isn't _fair_, Master Took, for you to toy with me like this!" She managed the whole outburst in a single breath, then turned on her heel and flounced away.

"Toy with her?" I repeated dumbly. "Our _fathers_ were discussing this, I never even agreed to it, and I certainly never mentioned it to her!"

"Wedding?" Merry said quietly. He took a moment to observe both my reddening face and my guests' curious stares, then dragged me off behind several huge barrels of ale. Once we were relatively shielded from the rest of the party, he let go of my arm and took a step away. "Pip?"

I winced at the hurt in his voice. "It's nothing," I muttered. "Just something my father suggested, or maybe hers. Silly, really..."

But he wasn't listening. "Of course," he said, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You're of age now, the heir to an important title, you need to have children..."

"The same could be said of you," I reminded him. "But I don't see you settling down with any pretty hobbit lass. I've been following in your footsteps my entire life; I don't see why I should stop now."

Merry just looked at me. "You never followed behind me, Pip. I always waited for you to catch up." He stuck his hands in the pockets of his waistcoat, staring at the ground. "Marriage is the natural way of things, you know. It was foolish of me to suppose we could delay it for much longer."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I don't understand, Merry. I never, ever agreed to marry Diamond -- or anyone else, for that matter. Why are you saying such foolishness? It doesn't sound like you."

"I knew it wouldn't last forever," he said softly, as though he hadn't heard me. "You know when I realized? It was when you were crushed by that troll, and I thought you might die." I looked at him sharply. We almost never spoke of the Quest anymore, not since Frodo left. Neither of us liked to dwell on those times. "When you woke up, I looked into your eyes and I knew our time was already running out. I saw it. I didn't know when it would end, or how, just that it would. I couldn't protect you then, Pip, and I can't now."

This made no sense to me, and I told him as much. "So you're just accepting this supposedly predestined end without a fight."

"I'm _sick_ of fighting," he said, and his voice was bitter and weary. He leaned heavily against an empty barrel. "Marriage isn't an orc or a troll, Pip. It's a responsibility. Like Frodo taking the Ring to Mordor, and Sam letting him go to the Havens. You don't argue with it. You accept it, and make the best of it. Besides," he added grudgingly, "Diamond isn't all that horrible, except when she's put out about something."

"No," I said firmly. I tried to clasp his hand, but he pulled away. "I don't care, I'm not giving in to something this silly. After all we've been through together..."

"You think you need to remind me?" he burst out, then lowered his voice again. "Do you remember the first time I got you in trouble? No, you bloody don't, because you were only three. I spent years wishing you would stop following me around, and then years more wishing you could just catch up with me already. We've battled Sauron's forces and stolen more mushrooms than I can count, and now you're grown-up and I'm grown-up and it's not a _game_ anymore, Pippin, if it ever has been."

I swallowed hard. "It was never just a game for me."

"Nor for me, really, but that doesn't matter now." He smiled wistfully. "I never minded, really I didn't. It was nice to stay young and irresponsible for a while longer. We both needed the release, after the Quest. But it's just as well you're forcing me to grow up, too."

"What do you mean?"

Merry sighed. "My father is dying, Pip. The healer says it could be a few more months or a few more years, but it will come. And I'm the only child. You're not the only one who has to produce heirs, you know."

I gaped at him. "I'm sorry about Uncle, but... you've been planning to marry? And you never told me?"

He grinned crookedly. "We're very much alike, aren't we, cousin?"

"Oh," I sighed. I suddenly needed to be held, and wondered idly if anyone would notice if I just kissed him, right there. Probably not, thanks to the barrels, but I wouldn't chance it. We stood staring at each other for a long moment. "Is that it, then? Is that why you've been behaving so strangely lately? Is that why you just said all those absurd things?" My voice sounded very small.

He reached out to me, then stopped himself. "I'm sorry."

I forced a rueful smile. "I think I liked your coming of age better."

"So did I."

Another long silence, then -- "I love you." I'd never said it before. Not seriously, anyway.

"You shouldn't have said that," Merry mumbled. "It doesn't make things any easier. See to your guests."

I blinked at the sudden change of subject, then turned to peer out over my party. My party. I'd almost forgotten about it.

By the time I turned back to Merry, he had already slipped away.

She was one of the last to leave. I knew she would be. She'd been lingering about at the edge of my vision for the rest of the night, flickering in and out of sight, never quite meeting my eyes. I never knew her to be so shy.

It was the right card to play with me. It made me feel guilty, and vaguely ashamed. And I suppose she knew I was too cursed honorable.

I was at the gate, giving out presents to my departing guests -- most of whom could scarcely see straight. I envied them. I wished I could drink myself silly. But for once I was maintaining appearances.

Diamond slipped up behind me. I stiffened at the light hand on my shoulder, then willed my muscles to relax. I didn't look around for Merry -- he was long gone. The days when my cousin would get me out of any scrape imaginable were obviously over, and I could hardly expect him to save me now.

"So what are you giving me for your birthday?" she asked, her whisper tickling my ear. I wished one last, desperate time for Merry.

But he wasn't there.

I turned to face Diamond, offering her a crooked grin. "Myself," I replied softly. "If you still want me."

A wide, beautiful smile lit up her face, and I struggled to mirror it.

*

_I look back over my shoulder at you. You're sprawled across the bed, breathing evenly. The morning sunlight leaves a golden stripe across your small form, illuminating your round face and long brown curls, tracing the soft curves of your body. You are a very pretty hobbit. You're just not Merry._

I close the door gently so as not to wake you. Not yet. I'm not ready. There are still a few years before you officially come of age, and I can rightfully delay the wedding until then. Four years is plenty of time to prepare myself. Accustom myself. Numb myself.

I'm afraid I shan't like being a grown-up, but I don't really have a choice, do I?


End file.
